


Hunting for the Past

by Caplover0704



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 02:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3471047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caplover0704/pseuds/Caplover0704
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winter Soldier knew he was once James Barnes. He knew the life of a weapon wasn't his by choice. Just as he knew that Steve Rogers was his to protect. Only first he had to become James Buchanan Barnes again and it wasn't a process he could do alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I re watched Winter Soldier last night and was hit with a huge need to write my own post Winter Soldier in depth Bucky recovering himself story. So I did!

The Soldier stared at himself in the mirror. Just starred. Into the deep blue eyes, past the bruised and battered face, trying to see what the target had been saying. If he saw a real human being behind his eyes, perhaps the other man could be correct?  

                “Your name is James Buchanan Barnes!”

                The words continued to tug at the Soldier, torturing his completely barren mind until a phrase he swore he had once repeated broke into his head.

                Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, 32557038.

                He closed his eyes and shuddered, brief flashes of him weakly, desperately, repeating those words over and over again flew past his closed lids and it made the blood in his body run cold.

                He clenched the frail bathroom sink in his metal hand until he felt it shatter beneath his fingers, crumbling to dust on the floor. He jerked back, pulling the offending limb away from the destruction and cradled it to his chest, almost like an infant.

                He had to remember to be careful. So careful. Recapture was not an option anymore. His handlers would never control him again.  Everything he did from this point was to protect himself. And the other man. Captain America.

                The Soldier knew the Captain needed protecting, and he knew that before he could do anything to help the man he had to find out more, find out if Sergeant Barnes and he were really the same man, despite knowing deep down in his heart that they were. 

                He knew despite the terror that thought brought. He knew because when he closed his eyes, he saw flashes. A warm smile, caring eyes, and a spirit too big for a little body. Every little thing that came together to create that man. The Target. Rogers. Steve. His best friend who he had just tried to kill.

                The Soldier bit back a sob and collapsed onto the cold floor. Not caring about his injuries, his pain, or lack of clothes. Only caring for the deep sense of guilt, running through his veins.

                _‘Weapons don’t have guilt. You’re a weapon, Soldier, get over it!’_ He screamed to himself.

                _‘A man does! And you were a man first.’_ A voice whispered into his mind.

                “No!” he yelled out loud, barely stopping himself from punching a hole into the wall.

                _‘You are. You’re a man, with hopes and dreams. And memories.’_

              _‘Lies!’_

                _‘Suck it up Barnes, its true.’_

                “That’s not my name!” he cried, pulling his knees to his chest and holding them tightly against him. “I’m not! I can’t be anymore. I’m a monster now, a weapon, a tool!”

                He couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and let them fall in thick water droplets that clinked almost audibly against the metallic forearm.

                He sat perfectly still and sobbed for what felt like hours, heavy breath stealing sobs. The tears finally brought him to the point of exhaustion and he collapsed there, falling into an unrestful fit of sleep on the linoleum floor.

                When he awoke hours later everything hurt. There was a sharp pressure on his chest where he had fallen asleep pressed into metal. His neck was twisted in an odd angle and his legs were so cramped he could barely move them.

                The pain was strange to him. He had been injured so many times he began to not even notice pain. Gun shots, stab wounds, broken bones, pulled ligaments and any other ailment he had ever had meant nothing to him. So why did sleeping like a curled up armadillo bother him?

                _‘It’s average pain.’_ The back of his mind supplied. _‘Mundane human stiffness that you aren’t used to.’_

                _‘I don’t get human stiffness.’_ The Soldier growled back at the part of him he was beginning to realize was what was left of Barnes. _‘I’m not allowed that sort of luxury.’_

                _‘Maybe not before, but you’re free. Hydra has its claws out of you. It’s time to remember who you are James.’_

                _‘I’m not James anymore!’_

               _‘Denial does not suit you.’_

                He groaned and stood with terrified thoughts of his strange subconscious being correct, or more accurately incorrect. Did he even have the ability to be James Barnes again?

                _‘You have to. For him. For Steve.’_

                Somehow the Soldier knew he was right. The Captain needed him, and if he was completely honest with himself he needed The Captain.

                _‘I can’t be Barnes again without knowing who he really is. Who both of them are, Rogers as well.’_ He thought.

                _‘The museum.’_ The little growingly obnoxious voice in his head supplied. _‘The one you’re too terrified to enter. Go. Now.’_

                He begrudgingly agreed and quickly made himself presentable, but also being as inconspicuous as possible.  With his hair in a bun and a hat on his head, dressed simply in jeans and a dark jacket he prayed it was enough to keep attention off of him.

                He stuck his hands into the deep pockets and slowly made his way to the Smithsonian, not having too far to walk having had the foresight to stay close. He knew that at some point he would be drawn to the exhibit.

               _‘Didn’t think it would be so soon.’_ He practically grumbled in his mind.

                _‘Admit it you’re chicken shit and you know it. Too damn afraid to have anything resembling Steve around you.’_

                _‘Stop calling him Steve!’_

                _‘It’s who he is. Steve Rogers, and you love him.’_

                The Soldier halted his movements in a jerk, wishing he could glare at himself.

                _‘Shut the fuck up Barnes. I’m a weapon, and weapons don’t love.’_

               _‘You’re James Barnes too you know. And you love his scrawny little ass.’_

                _‘He’s not scrawny anymore.’_ He bit back and then glowered. He was beginning to agree with Barnes, to partially understand the words he said and it scared him not knowing why. The Soldier needed answers, and now.

                He quickened his movements and all but ran the rest of the way, slowing only to casually enter the building. He paid with stolen cash and then kept his head down as he made his way to the Captain America exhibit.

                His eyes widened the moment he entered, and his heart clenched tightly, a strange feeling shooting through him, as he took in the sights around him. It was intimidating and fight or flight instincts where telling him to hightail it out of there.  

              _‘Grow a pair.’_

                He resisted the urge to growl at himself and made his way to the corner, the one dedicated to James Buchanan Barnes.

                He froze again at the giant copy of his face staring at him. It was most certainly his image, only gentler, freer. A proud look covered his features, his eyes strong and head held high. The Soldier recognized the basic appearance, the face, but the expression was foreign.

                His chin was the same; minus a scar he couldn’t remember receiving. The strong jaw held the same angle, with the same freckle right under the bone. But the lips, they couldn’t possibly be the same. The Soldier never remembered smiling like that. A little cocky tilt of the mouth that was almost unnoticeable. Yet it was still a smile and as far as he knew, his own had never made that motion.

                His nose was the same, which surprised him because he was certain the break along the ridge had happened on a mission at one point.

               _‘It was broken so many times defending Steve’s punk ass that nothing Hydra threw at you could damage it anymore.’_

                He shuddered at Barnes’s words, the feeling of recognition and the fact that he knew it was true without any sort of doubt filled him with unease.

He pushed the feeling down and concentrated on the image again, passing by the structure of his cheekbones to stare into the proud eyes. Happy eyes. The ones that had seen love. He stared into the frozen grey orbs that he knew where really a sharp clear blue and begged anyone, anything, to let him know how that felt, what it looked like, just one more time.

A crowd leaving an adjoining room pulled his attention away. He glanced from the hanging and his gaze caught a small screen to his right. He took a step closer to see it more clearly and frowned down at the images.

A snippet of video was playing. It was of him, Barnes, as well as Rogers. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, and the brightest happiest smiles possible were on their faces.

The Soldier closed his eyes and was immediately sucked into his mind with pictures of that day flooding his thoughts.

He was laughing, his forehead almost resting on The Captain’s broad shoulder. The man on his side lifted the arm and tossed it over his shoulders with a grin to the camera.

“He’s definitely the closest person to me, right Buck?” Steve had asked giving him a pleased smile.

“Absolutely! I know I’ll always be stuck with this punk here, no worries there!”

He received an even wider smile and a tight squeeze to the shoulders, genuine happiness spreading through his body.

The Soldier gasped and almost collapsed where he stood. Had that been real? The feelings of joy and love that he had felt looking at The Captains smile?

_‘Of course. I told you, you love him. Always have.’_

The sudden urge to get out, to find his Captain and make sure he was safe flooded him and he almost sprinted out of the museum. Instead, he took a deep breath and calmly left, only to instantly hurry into the first shadowed alley he could find.

Once there he slid to the ground and stared in front of him, utterly lost as to what to do.

_‘You can’t find him yet. Not while you still consider yourself The Soldier. Still unsure. Steve must remain safe!’_

He completely agreed with Barnes. Nothing would ever happen to his Captain by his hand again. What could he do in the meantime? Sit in a hotel and beg memories to return?

_‘Help him?’_

_‘How?’_ He snarked angrily.

_‘Destroy Hydra? Find help? Become James again? Any of those are good options.’_

He snorted and shook his head. _‘The Captain doesn’t want James. He wants Bucky.’_

_‘Same thing really. James is Bucky, and they are both you. Steve just wants you, but you have to feel like you first. Understand?’_

He hesitated and then nodded to himself. He was made into the Winter Soldier, but deep down he was who the Captain had said.

“You’re name is James Buchanan Barnes! You know me!” The voice resounded in his head and he stood, squared his shoulders and clenched his fists.

_‘My name was-‘_

_‘No is!’_

He shook his head and hesitated before whispering out loud, “My name will be James Buchanan Barnes again, and I have always loved you.”

With new determination he quickly headed back to the hotel. There was no way he could take back what he did to his Captain, but he could sure as hell help him. The only place he knew to start was by taking down the nearest Hydra base, to start the process of finding himself by knowing how he had become The Soldier. Only after knowing so could he hope to reverse it, and that was what he planned to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is pretty Winter Soldier like at the beginning, but he will be very slowly getting himself back! Thank you so much for reading, kudos and everything else.

The Soldier sneered at the man before him, hoisting his rifle a little higher. “I said get me into the database. Now. You saw what I did to your friends.” The last word was said sarcastically as he looked around the room encompassing the dead Hydra agents. “And those were soldiers, you are a scientist. What do you think you can do now? No more hiding behind Peirce, behind weapons or men stronger then you.”

The man was shaking, his eyes widened. “You’re just going to kill me when I do.”

“No. That would be too easy for you. Put the code in. Now.” He growled out, sticking the barrel of the gun into the pathetic man’s chest.

“Okay, okay!” He whimpered, moving to the computer and quickly inserting the proper data. When the screen opened he turned pleading eyes back to the Soldier.

“There, there. Now let me go.”

His eyes narrowed at the commanding tone. “Never said I’d let you go.” He reached over and grabbed the back of the man’s collar, ignoring his resumed whimpering he dragged him over to the chair that had tormented and controlled his life for years. “Let’s see how you enjoy billions of bolts of electricity wiping away who you are, destroying your identity.”

He pushed him into it, locking him in place instantly. “Trust me; it’s not a pleasant experience. Then again, the amount of people you have done this, and much worse, to I am sure you will deserve it.”

He turned it on, getting a small amount of satisfaction at watching one of the many men who caused him so much pain getting a little bit of his in return.

 _‘Calm down. Revenge is normal, and he for sure deserves it, but don’t go overboard. You aren’t them remember?’_ Barnes stated.

 _‘I’m not you either.’_ He remarked back gruffly.

_‘More me then Hydra. Besides you want to be me, since you know, it’s who you were born as. Who you really are.’_

He ignored the inner voice and glanced around the room in disdain. It had been far too easy to break into the DC Hydra compound, laughably so. Most of the goon guards didn’t even attempt to stop him, and the ones that did were not a competition.

“Hydras fault for being so ridiculously over confident.” He muttered, unsure if it was he or Barnes that was speaking. He shook of the strange dissociated state of his mind and stuck one of the many USB sticks he had nabbed into their system and instantly began an automatic system transfer.

As all the data was shifting he opened all files Hydra had pertaining to his Captain and new team, the Avengers.

He had a strong urge to know everything about the people who had the man’s back, needing to know that they were capable of protecting him.

Thor’s file made him raise an incredulous eyebrow. An alien god? Was this for real? As he read about the seemingly arrogant prince’s apparent banishment to earth and then subsequent admittance into the Avenger’s Initiative, a foreign swell of smug pride at the Captain’s leadership abilities grew inside of him.   

 _‘You always knew he was special.’_ Barnes supplied. _‘You didn’t need him to grow a foot or double in size to know how amazing his is.’_

Bruce Banner was interesting, but nothing about him gave him any intel on his Captain. The only thought it procured was that he hoped Banner didn’t attempt to use the Captain to make himself better, to get rid of the creature he can turn into.

He halted when he clicked over to Tony Stark’s face. Strong images of causing the fatal crash of Howard and Maria Stark mixed with memories of drinking and laughing with a much younger carefree Stark.

He gasped and brought his hands to his face, Barnes’s thoughts predominating hold over his mind.

_‘Oh god! I killed my friend! In cold blood, I just snapped shut his life as well as his even more innocent wife’s!’_

_‘No I did that.’_ It felt weird to be consoling his conscious, but he knew his mind needed to be reassured.

_‘You are me!’_

He attempted to fight back the bile Barnes felt from the memory but was unsuccessful and bent at the waist to retch, incapable of controlling the reaction. He stood there panting, staring straight ahead almost in shock.

 _‘Breathe Barnes!’_ He ordered. _‘Just breathe.’_

_‘How? How could I have done that? How?’_

_‘Hydra made you. Made me, us! It was Hydra.’_

He whimpered and shook his head. The soldier tried to shake the thoughts away, but when the guilt proved too much he just sighed and went back to reassuring his conscious.

_‘You did nothing Barnes. Hydra created me, The Soldier, to do their work. You were controlled, the victim as much as Stark was.’_

_‘I’m still alive though.’_

The Soldier shrugged. _‘In a way, but in a way you aren’t because I am.’_

The mixed emotions running through his body made his head hurt, but as he stared at Stark’s son’s face the guilt ate over anything else The Soldier had felt.

 _‘He looks so much like Howard.’_ Barnes remarked. _‘How old was he when he lost his parents, eighteen? Nineteen? Still too fucking young.’_

“I did it because I was forced to.” The Soldier stated out loud. “As a weapon I was forced to kill a friend. I had no choice and was a victim.”

His thoughts were silent as he continued to stare at the screen and then Barnes said quietly, _‘Thank you.’_

He shuddered from the exchange, his entire mind aching. _‘I’m insane aren’t I?’_

 _‘Not really.’_ Barnes said reassuringly. _‘You’ve been through a lot, don’t know who you are, have two sets of memories and so split them in half. Winter Soldier and James Barnes. You just have to split it until you can handle being one person. Being Bucky.’_

The Soldier glared at nothing for a moment and then thought. _‘Sounds crazy to me.’_

He barked out a brisk laugh and shook his head, turning his gaze back to the screen clicking over to the next file, unable to look at the familiar brown eyes even a second longer, uncaring about the famous Ironman suit.

He recognized the gorgeous redheaded woman instantly. Not from a few weeks ago, but before. Natalia Alianova Romanava. He had trained her when she was just a child, barely fourteen. Another wave of guilt filtered through him as he read the file on Black Widow. He had done so much to this woman, turning her into an assassin, shooting her and just recently almost killing her.

Not wanting to read all the tragic and graphic pieces of her life he slid to the next file and almost smiled at the Captains face.

Everything Hydra had on him the Soldier knew enough of. The serum procedures, an outline of his missions with the Howling Commandoes and then even his death.

He shuddered, a faint memory of a pudgy man-

 _‘Zola’_ Barnes supplied.

Of Zola showing him a newspaper, and explaining that Steve was gone, no one was there to save him. To give up.

He shuddered again and shook his head angrily. That stupid punk had just crashed a plane straight into the ocean. No sense of self preservation at all!

 _‘Just like always.’_ Barnes interjected again. _‘Never backed down from anything.’_

The Soldier envied the fond affliction to the other part of his thoughts and skipped over the Captain’s file. Nothing inside of it would give him information about him before he became the symbol of freedom for America, and memories of Steve before the war were really what he longed for.

Clint Barton’s file made him pause. The archer was Natalia’s partner and an excellent marksman. But most importantly to the Soldier, he had been brainwashed. Controlled for days by an alien god.

Brainwashed, controlled. Just like him. He even caused the death of a friend and almost injured Natalia as well.

 _‘Talk to him!’_ The thought was urgent, almost desperate. _‘He can help.’_

He nodded minutely and pursued the former agents S.H.I.E.L.D file and was simultaneously pleased and concerned by finding an address.

 _‘Hydra really did take over.’_ He thought. _‘To be able to have their complete files.’_ Barnes agreed with his statement bitterly.

He jotted down the address and stuffed it and the memory stick into a pocket before swinging the gun through the computers, smashing them to bits. Satisfied that they were unsalvageable he shouldered his weapons and quickly hurried through the base and out to the car, another stolen piece of equipment.

_‘You really should stop doing that.’_

_‘When I can.’_ He snarked back as he threw his weapons into the trunk and then slid into the car. Leaving the base as fast as he could; he headed towards the Avenger’s archer.

During the drive to New York, which he accomplished at insane speeds, he tried his best to not think, to just stare straight ahead and focus on his self-given mission. It was a success, at least until he reached the downtown apartment.

He sat in the car and stared up at the building, apprehension filling his gut tightly.

 _‘You gotta do this.’_ Barnes encouraged. _‘He could probably help.’_

The Soldier took a deep breath and glanced at the apartment number one more time before exiting the vehicle and making his way into the building. He hurried up the stairs and then hesitated once again at the door.

_‘Just knock.’_

He shifted in place and made sure the metal hand was secure in his pocket before lifting the right hand and gently knocking on the wooden surface.

He heard muffled noises of movement and then the door swung open to reveal a shorter well fit man with spiked up dirty blonde hair.

“Uh hello? Who’re you?” he asked with slightly narrowed eyes.

“You’re Clint Barton.” The Soldier said in verification, his own eyes surveying the man in search of any sort of weapon.

He crossed his arms and frowned. “Didn’t ask who I am. So you are?”

He frowned, unsure how to respond.

 _‘You can’t exactly say you are the Winter Soldier.’_ Barnes pointed out.

_‘Then what am I supposed to say?’_

_‘Your name maybe.’_

“My name is James Barnes.” He said after another moment. “At least I think it is? And I would really like your help.”

“James Barnes? Like Sergeant James Barnes? Cap’s friend?”

He nodded, unsure as to why the man had to clarify.

“Well I’ll be damned! Should I get Steve?”

“No!” The idea of seeing his Captain before he was ready caused no small amount of panic in him. Barton could tell too, instantly raising his hands up, almost like in surrender.

“Alright man, no Steve. Come in though?”  He ushered him into the small apartment and gestured for him to sit onto the couch.

The Soldier followed his suggestion, but kept his eyes on the man as he moved.

“So Steve calls you Bucky?”

“It’s for Buchanan, my middle name.” He said uncertainly.

“Like the president? Cool.” Barton tossed himself onto the chair across from him. “So should I call you that?”

“No!” He hesitated with a frown, unsure of what to say again.

_‘Barnes?’_

_‘That’s what I refer to you as.’_ He glowered at his hands, annoyed by the voice.

_‘Well call me James! Like I said before, you can’t go around being called The Soldier. Its counterproductive, and honestly, an awful name anyway. So tell him Barnes, and maybe start referring to yourself as such?’_

_‘I will try.’_

He sighed in resignation and said, “Barnes. Call me Barnes, I’m not ready to go by Bucky, or even James.”

The archer nodded a perplexed look on his face. “I have to admit, I’m confused. Didn’t you fall off of a train? How are you alive?”

“Have you talked to Steve recently? Or Natalia?”

“You know Natasha? And call her Natalia?” he questioned and then shook his head. “Okay not the point. No, I haven’t. I was out of the country for their little, let’s bring down S.H.I.E.L.D./Hydra party. Haven’t told them I’m back yet.”

“This would have been much easier if you had.” The Soldier, no Barnes, he said he’d try, was dreading informing him of everything. He was fearful he would be shot, or worse turned over, but knew he had to.

So he took a deep breath and launched into what he knew of the story. Beginning with the fall from the train, that he saw and felt in flashes, and subsequent capture and brainwashing. He had no middle to fill in so instantly went to the Hellicarriers and seeing Steve. He explained how the Captain’s words had woken something inside of him and now he was desperately searching for memories and a way to be who he once was.

“Shit man! You’re the Winter Soldier?”

He nodded and after a moment of watching the other man for any signs of hostility shrugged out of his jacket and showed him his damaged metal arm.

“Yikes, what happened to it?”

“Vibranium is a very strong metal.” He stated simply.

“Does it hurt?”

“There are no nerves down there.”

                The look he received was appalled and he asked worriedly, “But there are in the shoulder?”

                He nodded and Barton let out a low whistle. “How the hell did you survive all that?”

                “I’m not really sure I did.”

                The weight of his words hung over them heavily until the blonde nodded in understanding. “Alright. So you want my help? With what? And why me?”

                “I need myself back.” He said in a whisper. “I can’t be the Winter Soldier at all when I see,” a brief hesitation, “see Steve. He was my last mission.”

                “And in what’s left of the Soldier’s head it’s his first incomplete one. I get it. You came to me because of Loki didn’t you?”

                “Does that offend you?” Barnes asked, unsure about whether or not he cared.

                “No it’s just kinda out of my league man. Loki used some sort of weird magic to control me for two days. You’ve had your entire life repressed over like, seventy years!”

                “Can you help me?” He knew his voice sounded desperate, pleading. He didn’t care. As far was he was concerned, Barton was his only real hope of ever going back to his Captain.

                “Yeah Barnes. I don’t know what I can do but I’ll sure as hell try.”

                Relief flooded his veins and he sighed, unknown tension leaving his body as he practically went limp.

                “Thank you.” He managed to murmur. The relief of having support, of finally for the first time he could remember feeling safe coupled with the exertion of the past almost forty-eight hours or so caused his heavy lids to fall shut, his head drooping as he passed out into sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Barnes awoke to the smell of eggs. Cooking eggs and he felt strange. When was the last time he had smelt honest homemade food?

                _‘Too long.’_ James answered for him, and he knew that would be the best answer he would receive.

                He groaned and shifted on the couch, confusion filling him at how he had managed to fall asleep on it like he had.

                The confusion left him as he heard a voice speak from behind. His eyes instantly snapped open and his body went taut as he sat up quickly and reached for a nonexistent weapon.

                “Hey man calm down! It’s just me, Clint!”

                He turned to see said man standing a distance from him, his empty hands held up to show he was unarmed.

                “You passed out like a damn near dead person last night, remember?”

                Barnes nodded slowly as the memory returned to him.

                “That’s good. Except now you look like a zombie. Do you need a shower? Bathroom is that way.” He said, pointing to their right where a hallway branched off the living room.

                _‘Oh god, a shower would be heaven.’_ James pointed out to him when he paused. _‘Barton isn’t going to attack you while you’re in there. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done so while you slept.’_

                Barnes resisted a shudder at the reminder of letting himself be so vulnerable and nodded to the other man. “Yes I could use one.” He stood and reflexively stretched out, his joints popping and muscles shuddering in protest.

                “Your arm can get wet right?”

                “Yes its fine.” He replied.

                “Cool. Breakfast will be done soon so don’t take too long.”

                He nodded in consent and the cautiously retreated to the bathroom. Once there he stripped quickly, turned the water on and ducked into the spray.

                The hot water felt like heaven, and washing his hair was even better. He would have stayed in there forever had he been able to, but the prospect of food made him hurry his way through getting clean.

                Once he was out he stopped and realized he had no clothes except for the filthy ones he had just removed. He wrapped one of Barton’s towels around his waist and moved towards the living room. “Barton do you have anything I can wear?”

                “It’s Clint man. The room next to the bathroom is yours for now. I put a couple pair of sweatpants and shirts that might fit you on the bed.” The man responded, respectfully keeping his gaze away.

                “Thank you.” He entered the mentioned room and quickly pulled the clothes on before moving to the kitchen and then hesitatingly sitting at the table.

                The archer turned away from the stove and walked to him, placing an omelet before him with a smile. It looked so good that Barnes instantly began to dig into it like a starved man.

                “No chocking,” Barton instructed as he sat down across from him.

                He stopped abruptly with the fork half way to his mouth and then nodded. He received a nod in return and then a contemplative look.

                “So Barnes, random question, what is the most recent memory you have of Steve? Like not in this century.”

                The sudden inquiry caused him to drop his utensil completely and look up at the other man with wide blue eyes. He was given a sheepish smile with a little shrug.

                “Didn’t mean to startle you man. I’m just here to help right? I thought maybe talking about things will help jostle more?”

                _‘He’s right.’_

                “You’re right.” He repeated James’s thought.  “Of course you are. I need the push to try and remember. The most recent memory is of falling off of the train. His look of complete devastation and loss.” His voice had seeped from the matter of fact tone to one of sadness as he pictured the Captains eyes as he screamed out his name.

                “Shit.” Barton muttered quietly. “I’m sorry Barnes. Do you remember the whole day?”

                “No.” He stated simply and then frowned and submerged himself into his mind.

                What did he remember of that day? What besides his last fight as Bucky Barnes? Besides his death?

                _‘Cold.’_ He thought. _‘It was cold.’_

               _‘Steve was warm though. You no longer had to wrap yourself around him to keep his blood flowing.’_ James spoke up. _‘You remember the early morning, waking to your own personal heater. Just focus.’_

                “I think I remember the morning.” He voiced out loud. “Those mountains were so cold, colder than anything I had ever felt.” He paused and concentrated on the words James had said. “I can faintly remember thinking that I was glad Steve was big now. That he was the one curled around me, that he was healthy enough to no longer need my body heat to survive.”

                His eyes were stuck on the plate in front of him as he pictured that small tent and even smaller cot that had somehow held both of their large bodies together. He was so focused on trying to bring up details that he missed the surprised look on Barton’s face.

                “Wait so you and Steve, you were more than just best friends?”

                He didn’t register the shocked tone and just nodded his head. “I’m certain yes. I remember Steve always being my everything. I can see myself holding him, can almost remember what his kiss was like. But what if I am not remembering actual events? What if they are just thoughts I had. I cant tell the difference between the memory of an event, and the memory of a thought or impression I had once had. “He glanced up and frowned when he registered the surprise on his face.

                “Steve hasn’t said we were?” He frowned sadly. “We probably weren’t then.”

                “Hey no! That’s not necessarily true. Steve hasn’t really said anything to me about you. I think memories of you made him sad because he missed you so much. It’s hard to remember that Steve was literally asleep for seventy years. It’s like he went and took a nap and then was suddenly awake to a whole new world. To him though, you had died two years ago. His timeline went 1944, 2012. Nothing in between.” He gave a reassuring smile. “With no time to grieve, it makes sense that talking about you hurts.”

                “So potentially, I could not be imaging it?”

                “Yeah of course. I don’t know how to differ between a real memory and a remembered thought, but I can help you figure it out.”

                “How?”

                “Uhh well shit good question!” Barton frowned and leaned back in his chair, balancing it on the rear legs as he studied Barnes. “Let’s see, do you have any memories that are clear?”

                He shook his head. “Nothing completely concrete. I remember a lot of the war, but it’s all pieced together in snippets like misplaced puzzle pieces that have the same theme but don’t belong to the same puzzle. Most of the things I can see because James points them out. I see or read something and he’ll whisper a sentence or a word, an emotion or a thought, and a picture begins to form.”

                “Okay I’m confused. Who’s James?”

                “Myself, me, who I used to be.” He shrugged and glanced down to the metal hand. “I know I am James Barnes, I recognize his face in the mirror, but when I think of myself it feels wrong. It feels like I am not suited to be a man like him. I feel like the things I have done with this body has tarnished who I should be. So I don’t let myself, not fully, but he’s still there. He has the memories and emotions, and as I prove myself worthy he lets them out, lets me have them.”

                “So you still feel like you’re the Winter Soldier?”

                He shook his head. “No. The Soldier had no name, no emotions, and no thoughts. I have those now. I’m not an Asset anymore I’m a man that needs a name, but I’m still unclean and unfit to be James Barnes.”

                Barton stared at him with his mouth open in obvious shock. He slowly blinked and then shook his head, as if to clear it out. “Barnes, damn that’s, I don’t even know what to say. You feel like two different people?”

                “No. James and I are the same person, he’s just the fuller, healthy version. He explained it like; he’s the next step for me. When I am comfortable with what he knows and thinks, I can start calling myself James. Until last night, I still thought of myself as The Soldier, merely because I didn’t realize that referring to me as an inhuman name was counterproductive to becoming Bucky again.”

                “That’s so confusing. Doesn’t your head hurt?”

                “All the time. I cant handle James’s emotions. Whenever something comes to my mind that I have done as The Soldier, he is filled with guilt and it physically hurts.”

                “Holy fuck.” Barton shook his head. “I couldn’t handle that, how the hell are you?”

                “He’s grounding. When you ask a question I let him fill it in, just barely, and then concentrate on it, try and bring forth what he says.” Barnes shrugged. “It would be hard for me if I knew anything else, but I don’t have memories of being anything else. Even as The Soldier I think he was always there. Twice I ran away because I felt something, once to Paris and once to Brooklyn. I think what I need is for James, Bucky, to be the thoughts and emotions in charge of my body and the Winter Soldier to only be there in the back if he is needed.”

                “Because he will never go away.” Barton stated for him. “That’s a lot to have to carry. No wonder you sought out help, and I am really glad I agreed to do so. If I hadn’t and Steve found out, he’d kick my ass for forcing you to do it alone.”

                Barnes gave him a very small smile and nodded. “Thank you. I don’t know how to wrap my head around everything. I don’t remember fear, but I think I am afraid.”

                “Understandable.” He smiled back. “Where would you like to start then?”

                “If you wouldn’t mind me paying you back when I can, I could really use some real clothes. I’d feel more human, and James has forbidden me from stealing.”

                Barton laughed and pushed away from the table. He walked over and offered Barnes his hand. The assassin stared at it for a moment before reaching out with his right hand and grasped it, pulling himself to his feet.

                The blonde kept the grip on his hand for a moment and smiled companionably. “Don’t worry about paying me back. We’re friends now man. Feeling human is a perfect first step. Shopping it is then?”

                He released Barton’s hand and nodded. “Shopping it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope Bucky's mind and thoughts are making sense! I figured he would need a way to process everything that has happened to him. Hopefully I am not making his split mind thing to confusing and that you guys like it. Enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

“Did you want you to go in?” Barton’s question from his side had him momentarily tensing before he pulled his eyes away from the barber shop to glance over at him.

                “No I am good. I have no idea how I would have them cut it.” He ran his fingers through the pulled back strands and shrugged. “I was just certain I have been in there before and was trying to figure out when.”

                “It is old enough you could have gone in during the thirties. You sure you don’t want a new do to go with your new clothes?” He asked motioning towards the few bags in his gloved metal hand and new jeans and jacket he had donned immediately after purchase.

                He shook his head. “I’m sure. Like I said, unsure how I would have it.”

                “That’s cool.” The archer pointed to his car. “Ready to head home? Shopping exhausts me and it looks like you could get the hell away from people.”

                He was more than correct. It took all the control he had not to either snap and kill the obnoxious people around him or to just run away and hide in a closet and give up on everything. If he had attempted to go into that mall on his own, he was certain that one would have happened.

                “Yes lets go. There are too many people in New York.”

                _‘You’ve always liked people.’_ James informed him. _‘A city boy through and through’_

_‘Yes well that’s changed now.’_

_‘For now.’_

He sighed in frustration as he got into the passenger seat and Barton shot him a concerned look. “What’s wrong?”

                “Even my own mind has this expectation that I will go back to just being Bucky Barnes at some point. I don’t know if I can really be the same man I was ever again.”

                “Well of course not.” He said and then clarified at Barnes’s shocked look, “No one goes through trauma and comes out the other side exactly the same. I’m not the same after Loki that’s for damn sure. I didn’t know Steve before, but I am pretty sure even he isn’t the same after a life on ice. No one expects you to just jump into being who you were. In fact, if you think about it, you probably were already slightly changed after what Hydra did to you the first time right?”

                _‘Yes!’_ James exclaimed. _‘You won’t ever be younger carefree James Barnes again. You’ve been a soldier far longer then you were The Soldier.’_

_‘That makes sense.’_ He thought in surprise. _‘I remember being bitter at how Steve was obviously changed for the better and all I felt was a negative change in myself.’_

He voiced as much to Clint who was quiet for a moment before saying. “You’re so focused on knowing who Steve is, of having memories of him. I think that no matter who you feel like, you’ll know Steve. What you really need to know is yourself.”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Okay just like, close your eyes real quick.”

                “What!”

                “Just trust me okay?”

                “This is ridiculous.” He grumbled but followed the suggestion.

                “Okay so you said that James helps you answer questions right? Focus and tell me the answers to these questions okay?”

                He nodded in silent reply.

                “Good. So what is Steve’s favorite color?”

                It only took him a moment of thinking, wracking his brain for what he knew should be an easy conclusion before saying confidently. “Yellow.”

                “Really? I always thought it would have been like red or blue.”

                “No. Yellow. He used to not even be able to see red. Yellow was the only true color he could see correctly. We used to always watch the sunsets together.” He answered smoothly; amazed that he needed no input from James.

                “Now what’s your favorite color?”

                He opened his mouth to answer and then immediately snapped it shut when he realized he had no idea what to say.

                _‘Do I have a favorite color?’_ He thought. _‘Do I still have favorites?’_

_‘You used to like blue? And green? Do you see a color that you like more than others?’_

Barnes opened his eyes and glanced around them trying to find one that stood out. When nothing jumped at him he shrugged. “I don’t know how to have favorites.”

                “See man that’s what I mean! I know how badly you want to remember everything from your past and trust me, I get it, but maybe it shouldn’t be your number one priority.”

                “And what should be?” Barnes asked in confusion. “Remembering will let me be with Steve again.”

                “Do you want my opinion?”

                “I wouldn’t have come to you for help if I didn’t want it.” He almost snapped, glaring at the man’s profile.

                “No need to be snarky, is just a question. My opinion is that you need help accepting your past and figuring out who you are as a human being. Memories will come to you as you go. Not remembering stuff isn’t what’s keeping you from going back to Steve, being afraid of who you are is.”

                “Are you saying I need to be comfortable with what I’ve done?”

                “No! Just that you need to be comfortable with who you are. You know what colors are Barnes, you can see them, but you can’t decide what one you like more then another? If I were you I would want to know who I am, what I like, how I feel, before even trying to know specifics of who I used to be. You said you didn’t think you could be the same Bucky Barnes as before? Good. Don’t. Become a matured Bucky Barnes that has had shit happen to him.”

                “You say it like that’s so easy to do.”

                Barton twisted in the seat and looked him in the eyes. “No. I know it won’t be easy. You’ll have to do it in steps. First, a color.”

                “Are you making me do this now?” He asked glaring at him.

                “Yep!” He said, obnoxiously popping the ‘p’. “What colors don’t you like?”

                “Red.” He said instantly.

                “Good. And do like?”

                He thought for a moment, picturing colors that seemed comforting to him. Things that made him feel safe. The first one to come to his mind was yellow, faint memories of Steve’s happiness at watching the sunset, no matter where they were, filling his head.

                “I guess I would have to say yellow too. I can’t think of any way that yellow can be used as a damaging color. It’s too bright and happy.”

                “Awesome!” Barton reached over and clasped him on the arm. “See, you have a favorite color now!”

                “How did you know to do that? I thought you said you were unsure how to help me?”

                He shrugged. “We didn’t have the same experiences at all, no. But after Loki and what happened to Phil, all I could feel was guilt and hatred. I hated who I was and what I did. I didn’t want to be me anymore Barnes. I didn’t want my name because every time I heard it, it was Phil’s voice saying it. But my therapist told me almost what I told you. Move on Clint. Don’t dwell on what happened; find a way to live with the changes. “

                “Therapist?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

                “Mhmm. Mandated. Totally sucked at first but she’s pretty awesome. Someone like that might be able to help you too.”

                “I am not going to talk to some stranger!”

                “Wasn’t going to suggest it, but aren’t I just some stranger?”

                He stared at him and then shrugged. “You are on Steve’s team. That means he must trust you, so I did.”

                “Thanks!” he winked. “So I can just be your therapist! I might get some pointers from Maggie, but I can do it. Oh speaking of help, your arm, do you want it fixed?”

                Barnes glanced down to the covered metal and nodded his head. “You know someone who can fix it?”

                “Sure do! I know just the man!”

 

                Barton drove them to a tower in central New York with a large ‘A’ sitting at the top. Avengers Tower. He turned and glowered at the archer.

                “Steve could be here.”

                “No way man! I thought we should come here to get your arm patched up earlier and while you were trying on clothes I called Nat to see if he was. Cap’s out looking for your ass with his new buddy Sam.”

                “The man with the wings?”

                “Yes the very unfair human being who gets to fly with wings. It’s Just Tony and Bruce here.”

                “Stark?” He frowned, a feeling of fear creeping up his spine. “He’s the one you want to fix this?”

                _‘I don’t think I can see Stark!’_ He thought in a panic. _‘Not with what I did to his parents.’_

_‘You can handle it. Or I can. Whatever you want to call it.’_ James pointed out. _‘You need to face the painful memories to move past them.’_

_‘I hate you. I hate this.’_

_‘You’ll live.’_

“That he is! What’s wrong with Tony, well other than the obvious?” He said the last part teasingly, but the question had a serious undertone.

                “I killed Howard and Maria Stark.” He answered simply.

                Barton shot him a briefly surprised look as he parked the car and then shook his head. “Nope, Hydra killed them.”

                “I was Hydra!” He snapped after him as he got out of the car. He wrenched open the door and moved to follow his companion to an elevator.

                “Nuhuh. They controlled you, remember? James Barnes hasn’t killed anyone since 1945.”

                “That’s not true. I killed a whole base of Hydra agents yesterday morning.”

                Barton halted and turned to stare at him. He just awkwardly watched him for a moment and then said, “Okay. I’m sure they deserved it, right?”

                “They did.”

                He nodded and reached over to rest his hand on Barnes’s right shoulder. “You were fighting the bad guys, ones that hurt you. As for Tony’s parents, everyone in this business has red in their ledger. You’ll just have to come to terms with it and make up for it when you are ready.”

                Barnes just snorted and shrugged the hand off, moving away from the man. Barton sighed sadly and then shrugged, lifting his head to the ceiling.

                “Hey Jarvis, Tony’s workshop please?”

                “Certainly Agent Barton.”

                Barnes tensed at the British voice and looked around in confusion to find its origin.

                “That’s Jarvis. He’s Tony’s AI. Jarvis buddy, this is Sergeant James Barnes.”

                “Pleasure Sergeant Barnes. Welcome to Avengers Tower.”

                “Artificial Intelligence? Stark really is just like his father. Howard built a flying car once.”

                “Really?” Barton asked his eyes wide in excitement.

                 “It didn’t work very well. Stayed off the ground for about fifteen seconds.”

                _‘I think that was a good night?’_ He pondered to himself.

                _‘It was. Was the last night you saw Steve before deporting.’_

_‘At the Stark expo.’_ He agreed trying to remember more of the night.

                “That’s still pretty bad ass.” The archer’s words startled him out of his thoughts and he glanced over to him as the doors opened.

                “Hey Tony, can you make a flying call?” Barton called as they stepped out of the elevator.

                “The hell Birdbrain? Did you come here for that?” A voice called and then Tony Stark was in front of them with a perplexed look. “Really?”

                “No Shellhead. Came so you could fix Barnes’s arm.” He gestured to the assassin at his side.

                “James Barnes? Hey Klondike! Steve told me what happened when I visited him at the hospital! He know you’re here?”

                He shook his head, unsure how to respond to the eccentric man.

                “Ooh going behind the Captain’s back! Awesome. So you’re Bucky Barnes, Klondike, Steve’s not dead best friend.”

                “Klondike?” He asked.

                “Yeah! It’s a delicious frozen treat, hard on the outside with a soft creamy middle. Totally you!”

                He glanced over at Barton, who gave him a shrug. “You get used to him and his nicknames. He calls Steve Iced Cappuccino and Capsicle. Apparently he has a thing for frozen jokes.”

                “Ooh I could call you Elsa!”

                “What!” So far Tony Stark did nothing but confuse him. He almost spoke in a language he didn’t understand, and Barnes spoke at least a dozen different ones.

                “Disney movie.” Stark said with a wave of his hand.

                “Tony, he’s having memory problems, maybe refrain from nicknames?” Barton said at the same time Barnes exclaimed.

                “They still make Disney movies?” His words were almost completely encouraged by James’s wordless exclamation at the words, but Barnes could faintly recall dragging Steve to, what he was sure was the first ever one.  “I think Steve and I went to see,” a brief pause, “Snow White! Yes, Snow White when it came out.”

                “That’s so awesome!” Stark exclaimed. “You and Cap need a Disney movie marathon! There are so many of them now! That’s number one on your list, Jarvis jot that down!” He ordered authoritatively. “And oh yeah! Fine, ixnay on the nicknames.”

                “Yes sir.” The AI responded to his first statement with what sounded like exasperation.

                “I think I have gone insane.” Barnes murmured to himself. “Gone insane and am imagining this.”

                “Psh not at all! I’m just that awesome. Now come over here, sit, I’ll look at your arm.”

                He glanced at the chair he motioned too and froze at its similarity to Hydras mind wipe chair. It had the same basic design, with the arm rests and straps. It was missing the head part, the mechanics that would erase minds, but still froze his blood. He turned pleading eyes to Barton who stepped forward and shook his head at Stark.

                “Hey Tony, do you have like a regular chair or something? I think this one makes him uneasy.”

                “Yeah course.” He pulled over a completely normal stool. “Have bad memories of dentists?”

                “More like bad memories of Hydra.” He stated simply taking a seat on the stool.

                “Yikes, I don’t even want to imagine what put that look on your face then.” He stated. “Think you can take your spectacular jacket and the glove off?”

                “You really don’t.” he agreed, following the request and dropping them onto the floor. Stark instantly bent forward to examine the arm, carful hands running over the metal.

                “I could do so much better than this.” He muttered. “Screw you Hydra, it so isn’t out of my league.” His fingers prodded the torn section and he glanced up at Barnes. “What happened here?”

                “Steve’s shield.”

                “Ah. Nothing beats that vibranium. Expensive crap that is. You want this just fixed up, or would you like a new one?”

                “New one!” He exclaimed instantly. The prospect of getting rid of the deadly weapon attached to his body beyond thrilling.

                “Excellent! I’ll patch you up for now so you aren’t stuck armless. I think I still have some vibranium scraps somewhere. That would be a good sturdy core! Then you could be linked to your Capsicle!”

                Barnes just stared at him as he talked excitedly about ideas for the new arm, the similarities between him and Howard glaringly obvious.

                “You know I am a Hydra assassin right?”

                “Was.” Barton interjected but was ignored.

                “Sure do buddy. Steve told me everything.”

                “I killed your parents.” He didn’t know what possessed him to say it, but he couldn’t stop himself as the words poured from his mouth. “I knew Howard, he was my friend. And I am sorry.”

                The air was tense as the billionaire stared at him, and then Stark sighed and sent an understanding look.

                “I used to make weapons you know? It’s what Stark Industries did. Best line of weapons around, billions of them. I made them for our soldiers, to protect them, to serve the country. They were excellent American made machines. But they fell into the wrong hands, bad hands, hands that killed those same soldiers I had tried to protect. They were dead, because of what I did.

                “You’re just like those weapons Barnes. You are an excellent American made weapon too. Created to protect America, especially her Captain,” He gave a small wink before returning to a serious tone. “You also fell into the wrong hands. They got a hold of you and warped a good man that did what he believed right into the type of weapon they wanted.”

                He shrugged and gave him a look. Not of pity, or even one of sadness. It was acceptance that was reflected in those dark brown eyes. “I don’t blame you for my parent’s deaths. You didn’t have a conscious mind. Your hand, your actions, hell everything that you have been forced to do, was just a stolen bullet triggered by Hydra. I get it Barnes. You don’t have to apologize for actions that weren’t yours.”

                He stared at the other man before him, completely speechless. Why had his words resonated with him so much? Wasn’t what he said almost exactly what Barton had said in the elevator?

                _‘Barton said so out of comfort, a need for you to see that it wasn’t you. Stark, he understands. Your actions influenced his life, he was the one you were forced to directly harm. What he just said is that he realizes that and forgives you. You made amends; you took a step to fix damage you had caused. That’s why it feels different. Because it is.’_

_‘Because I made a conscious decision to repent for what I did as the Soldier.’_ He thought in realization. He stared at Stark for a moment more before his face slowly broke into the first real smile in decades. The movement of his lips and lightness in his chest almost made him want to cry.

                “Thank you Stark.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I finally got this one done and plan on a few more chapter in the next few days. Hope you enjoy!

 

                “You’re very welcome Barnes. You can call me Tony, or you know anything that shows off my awesomeness?” The billionaire moved closer and comradely shook his hand.

                He gave a perplexed look and glanced over at Barton who snorted and shook his head. “He won’t even call me by my given name yet, besides, he would totally agree with me and call you Shellhead.”

                “No not another one!” Stark moaned jokingly as he pulled away and began to move around, gathering tools. “You can’t become Katniss’s best friend! No way! Hey wait; if you’re Steve’s best friend, you’re not a total tight ass like Capsicle are you?”

                    Barnes was unsure how to respond to him, but it didn’t take long for James to be laughing in the back of his head.

                _‘Steve? A tight ass? Ha! He’s the biggest punk that has ever lived. Think of all the fights he’s been in.’_

_‘All of those were for good reasons though, right?’_ Barnes wondered, trying to concentrate on a particular one. 

_‘Course they were, always in defense of someone else. Doesn’t change the fact that he was lucky to only be arrested once!’_

A strange feeling bubbled in his chest and then Barnes was laughing, a solid picture of Steve’s bruised and pissed face as he lectured him while the blonde stood in the downtown police station coming to his thoughts. He clutched his stomach, the new feeling almost painful, as he laughed until he couldn’t breathe.

                Barton and Stark were staring at him as he slowly calmed his breathing, both of their expressions almost afraid.

                “You okay there buddy?” The latter asked cautiously. “Did I break you?”

                He shook his head and took one more deep inhale to right his breathing. “Yes I am fine. The laughter was at what you said. I was remembering the time Steve got arrested for starting a bar fight.”

                “What!” They both exclaimed.

                He nodded a look of deep concentration on his face as he focused on the details. “I drug him out dancing for some reason, and he was at the bar where these huge guys were harassing a lone dame. I think he pretty much told them to fuck off and leave her alone, and then was in a fight with half the bar. I had to bodily drag him away, but then he and the two guys were arrested.”

                The other two burst into their own explosions of laughter and Stark shook his head with a look of disbelief. Barnes resisted a sigh and lifted his arm almost pointedly.

                The engineer took a deep breath to calm the laughter and then gave a couple belated chuckles. “Damn. And here I was thinking that Steve was all goody-two-shoes.”

                “Why would you be so certain of that? As far as I remember that man ignores rules, instructions, and common sense more than is healthy.”

                “No not like that. We know he makes his own rule book. He’s just like, the rescuing kittens from trees; help little old ladies across the street, no sex till marriage kind a guy.”

                _‘Correct him.’_ James said with an obnoxious tone. _‘You know Steve’s had sex.’_

He groaned internally. Wasn’t he unsure if his more intimate memories of he and the Captain were real or not? Couldn’t he possibly be inventing things his subconscious wanted to be true?

                _‘Just trust me. I haven’t told you a false memory yet have I?’_

James was right there, so he sighed and returned his attention to Stark.

                “Steve and I have had sex.” As soon as he said it, his expression turned comically wide. Like every other memory he had voiced out loud, this one came back to him too, not just as an impression or feeling. He knew it was a memory.

                “Shit Barnes!” Tony exclaimed, dropping the tools in his hand to the floor. “You can’t just spring something like that on a man!”

                Barnes ignored him for a moment, the heavy realization that he truly had loved his Captain, that they were actually in love, hitting him hard. He didn’t know how to respond, how to think, and most of all, how to feel that love again. It was daunting and painful and he was once again filled with the urge to just run and hide for the rest of his life.

                _‘Conterproductive!’_

_‘You are a broken record!’_ He thought angrily but gave a resigned sigh and looked back to Starks face.

                “What were you saying?”

                Stark grinned and gave him a perplexed look. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Steve? Also, where the hell do you keep going?”

                “He’s talking to James. His subconscious, memories, whatever you wanna call him.” Clint supplied for him. “It’s how he keeps everything straight in his head.”

                “Huh. Well that’s pretty cool. So, same Steve right?”

                Barnes snorted and nodded his head. “Only Steve we both know. He and I were in a romantic relationship for,” he hesitated and sighed when no number came to mind, “well a long time I think. Marriage is illegal, so of course we had sex.”

                “You’re killing me here!” The billionaire cried with a laugh. “Arrested and illegal sex, damn so much blackmail! I like you Barnes, you’re my friend. I decided.”

                “Okay?” he stated, startled by the man’s declaration of friendship.

                Stark just continued to chuckle and shake his head in amazement as he got back to work. He lifted Barnes’s arm and went straight to fixing up the damage. “So insane. I’m still having a hard time processing this. Any more awesome stories?”

                He shrugged his right shoulder. “Hardly any are there. Sometimes words or thoughts trigger them, but it’s not a lot.”

                “You obviously love him. Why don’t you want to see him?” His voice was slightly muffled by the mask he put on to avoid sparks, but Barnes had heard him loud and clear and sighed.

                “Not like this. A huge part of me is the Winter Soldier still. I can’t be around him while it lurks behind my mind. It’s not safe.”

                “Don’t you have the other part of your brain? James or whatever?”

                “He really isn’t enough. I associate him, his thoughts, feelings, memories anything he can do really as Bucky. And myself, the one speaking to you, controlling my body, well I’m still the Solider. When I smile, laugh, feel anything really it’s like doing so for the first time. I’m still learning what life really is.”

                “Hey I get it. Gotta feel human before you can even think of restarting a relationship.” He glanced over Barnes’s body and then added. “You got any clothes?”

                He nodded. “Yes Barton bought me some this afternoon before we came here.”

                “From Walmart?” His question was accompanied by a look of disgust and Barnes gave him a confused look.

                “What’s a Walmart?”

                “It so wasn’t Walmart.” Barton stated with an offended glare.

                “What’s a Walmart?”

                Stark laughed at his expression. “This gross obnoxious over rated awful corporate chain of stores that carries pretty much everything from groceries to car parts. The clothes there are terrible.”

                _‘One store has all of that!’_

He voiced James’s thought and received two grins.

                “Sure does! You know that shop we went to, how big it was?”

                Barnes nodded the overwhelming feeling still very present on his mind.

                “Well it’s like that, with the bright shiny lights and huge space with lots of people, but it carries more than just clothes.”

                “Sounds awful.”

                “See he agrees!” Stark exclaimed with an exaggerative wave of his arms. “Where’d you take him anyway, Kohl’s?”

                “Macy’s.”

                Stark snorted. “Not much better! I could buy you some real clothes! Pepper can take you, she’d love that!”

                “Pepper?”

                “His girl.” Barton answered. “ She’s a riot! Only person on this planet that can keep this one in line.”

                “Psh don’t need to be in line!” Tony said brandishing the sauntering tool like a weapon. “But really Barnes, she would love you!”

                “I have clothes; you don’t need to buy me things.” Barnes muttered guilt and a small bit of shame creeping up on him at the thought of taking money from him. “I don’t really deserve your money.”

                “Nonsense! You totally do!”

                “I’m really grateful for the offer Stark, but I have to decline. I have a sufficient amount of clothing. Barton was really kind to purchase me things.”

                Stark lifted the mask off his head and set that and the tools down. “If you say so. Change your mind you’ll let me know?”

                “I will.” He agreed even though he knew that his opinion on the matter wouldn’t change.

                “Good man!” The billionaire said happily, patting the newly fixed lower arm and then standing and moving to a section of the room that appeared blank, but after a wave of the hand was filled with sudden holographic images and strange lasers.

                Barnes made a startled movement at their sudden appearance and Stark gave him an apologetic smile.

                “Didn’t mean to startle you. Think you can come here real quick? I’d like to get a scan of the arm so I know what I’m working with.”

                He shot a look to Barton who nodded reassuringly. “Nothing invasive Barnes. The little lasers are just going to scan your arm and take pictures of it pretty much.”

                “Wow Legolas, way to simplify my awesomeness.” Stark bemoaned, but gave Barnes a smile. “He’s right though, you won’t even feel it happen.”

                He gave a relinquishing nod and stepped into the laser’s sight, lifting the metal arm up at his side. He watched as the red lights danced over it and almost gasped as a picture began to instantaneously form before their eyes.

                Once it was finished he dropped the arm to his side and watched Stark lift a hand and tap on the holographic metal plates. He touched it lightly and then spread his hand, causing the diagram to explode open reveling the inside workings.

                “I color coded it.” Stark explained as he gestured to the large tangle of colored lines surrounding a dark mass in the middle. “The dark part is like a core, it’s pretty much the arm’s substitute for a bone.” He explained. “There are so many different metals and alloys in it that my system wasn’t able to distinguish it, but that’s not really important. I’ll be making a far better one anyway.”

                Barnes nodded in understanding, his eyes locked on the image and Starks hands as he talked.

                The man then tapped on a cluster of red at the top of the shoulder. “These are your actual nerves. They are woven so tightly into these things,” he tapped on the first section of yellow, “that removing this is going to be a risky process. I’m probably going to have to bring Bruce in to help, but he’s bad ass too so no worries.”

                He hesitated at the thought of another person, but James quietly reminded him that Banner was another one of Steve’s team and could be trusted, so he gave Stark another understanding nod. “Go on.”

                “Okay then.” He went back to the yellow lines and frowned. “All of these power the arm. They’re what are responsible for control, feeling, and stuff like that. Pretty much artificial nerves. They vary with function, that’s why they are different shades.”

                He highlighted the five blue lines that extended from fingertip to a central part of the shoulder and glared at the hologram. “These I don’t know what they are. They don’t seem to be doing anything at all.”

                “They were a tracker.” Barnes answered emotionlessly. “They put one in after I ran from an assignment to Cooney Island. Guess I was trying to get close to Steve even then. I ripped it out and smashed it the same day the Hellicarriers fell.”

                “Where was it?” Barton asked his tone appalled.

                “My shoulder, behind the shoulder blade. It hooked into the arm. I had to cut it out.” His frown at the thought turned into a tiny smirk. “Hurt like a bitch.”

                He added James’s impression of the event knowing that being completely nonchalant on pain wasn’t a human reaction.

                “Damn!” The archer exclaimed, giving him a concerned look.

                “Yikes Solja Boy!”

                “What?”

                “Never mind really outdated pop culture reference.” Stark said waving it away. “There won’t be any of those in your new one I promise. The core will be thinner too, lighter. I have a bit of vibranium left, and I’ll use the rarer metals of this one.” He tapped the image for emphasis. “The outer part I’ll make even lighter, almost weightless okay? I’ll make it so you can’t tell the difference between the metal and your real flesh and blood one okay?”

                “You can do that?”

                “Sure will! I’m making you an arm Barnes, not a weapon. Hell, I can even make you an artificial skin to cover it if you want.”

                “Really!” Relief flooded him and he glanced down, lifting the two arms to study them together, only faintly able to picture what they both looked like covered in skin.

                “Yeah totally. You won’t be able to wear it always; you’ll have to take it off to clean it, let it breath, fix the metal all that jazz. You’ll probably also have to have help putting it on and taking it off, but yeah I’ll make it as normal as possible.” He glanced at Barnes’s right arm and then added. “Think I can scan the real one so I can get the skin tone right?”

                Barnes nodded, amazed that the engineer could do all of this. He lifted the arm to repeat the process from before.

                “Fantastic!” Stark cried as the scan was done. “Now all I have to do is get started! You guys going to stay on Birdbrain’s floor?”

                “Nah, we’d rather stay at my apartment.” Clint answered. “It’ll be easier for us, also just in case Steve comes by you know. Barnes won’t feel any pressure or awkward or anything.”

                “Sure thing.” Stark smiled at them and waved. “Just come back in like a week okay?  Now skedaddle! Let me get to this!” He grinned as he ushered them out and Barnes couldn’t resist grinning back.

 

                Late that night Barnes found himself once again standing before a mirror. It had been just a short four days since he had gone to the museum, since he had last stared at his reflection trying to see Bucky Barnes in himself and the sight he saw now was drastically different then it had been that day.

                The haunted shadows in his eyes were beginning to recede and he was starting to see what Stark and Barton kept saying. A human being.

He could see his face clearly with his hair pulled behind his head, the bangs sweeping to the side, but despite the lightness in his eyes his face still appeared to be gaunt. His eyes were sunken and skin was ashen. He hated seeing what he knew was once a handsome healthy face so damaged, but he knew that only time would change it.

He actually had that time now. Not just the time, but the resources and motivation to fix himself. He had hope.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait again! I really didn't mean for it to be weeks! Hope you all like this chapter and it makes up for the wait!

 

                There was blood on his hand. It was nothing new. The Soldier always had blood on his hand, yet for some reason this was different. He looked around him and saw reeds. Reeds and water. It was confusing.

                He looked back to the blood on his hand with a scrunched brow. Seeing the red liquid brought him despair, his lungs felt like they were closing in and he couldn’t breathe. What was wrong with him? Was he malfunctioning? Did he need extra maintenance?

                He looked past himself to the unbreathing figure at his feet. The blonde figure dressed in blue and suddenly his heart stopped with the realization of what was wrong.

                “Steve?” He whispered walking closer to his Captain. He was lying on the bank of the river and his chest wasn’t moving. He just laid there, blood seeping from his body.

                “No, no Steve you lived.” He said dropping to his knees at the man’s side and reaching out to shake him. “You lived! I saved you! No you didn’t die!”

                He received no response and the more he tried to revive him the more Steve bled. He bled and bled until Barnes was surrounded by red and there was nothing he could do as it covered him, as it flowed to the one who caused it to leave the man it belonged to, like it was blaming him for Steve’s death.

                Barnes bolted out of bed with a loud cry, his hand flying to grip his hair as he screamed.

                It had been a dream. Steve was alive. He didn’t kill Steve. Steve was breathing. He wasn’t covered in Steve’s blood.

                The door to his room swung open and he lifted wide eyes to stare at Barton as he entered. Barnes’s breaths left his body in heavy pants and he just stared at the archer, unsure what to do or how to react. He vaguely felt tears falling from his eyes, but was in too much shock and panic to realize what they were.

                “Barnes buddy, hey it’s okay. Was just another dream.” He heard Barton say, but it was muffled like his ears were full of cotton.

                Steve is alive. I didn’t kill Steve.

                _‘You didn’t kill Steve._ ’ James reiterated. _‘It was a nightmare, a fear. Steve’s just fine. Breathe Barnes. It’s okay.’_

                He took a series of deep breaths and lifted his wet eyes to meet Barton’s. “I killed Steve.”

                “Oh no man you didn’t kill Steve. He’s alive and kickin’”

                “It felt so real.” He shuddered and stared down at his hands. “I killed him and he bled out in my arms.”

                “Shit.” He heard Barton mutter and felt a small dip at the foot of the bed as he sat. “What can I do to help?”

                “I need to know he’s not dead.”

                The other man hesitated for a second and then said. “Okay, okay I can do that. Stay silent okay?”

                He pulled out his phone and pressed the screen a few times before the room was filled with the sounds of ringing. Seconds later the rings were cut off to be replaced by Steve’s voice.

                “Hey Clint!”

                “Hi Steve! I just got some muffins from that bakery you suggested a while ago and made me think about you. How’s your hunt going?”

                The captain gave a little sigh. “It’s really not. We have absolutely no leads really. It’s almost seeming hopeless.”

                “Hey don’t give up man! You’ll find something.”

                “I hope so. I just want to find him so bad, make sure he’s okay.”

                His Captain sounded so sad that Barnes had to physically bite his lip to stop himself from speaking out, and he shot Barton a desperate look.

                “I bet he will be Cap. He’s got you. Barnes is a strong guy right?”

                “Strongest person I’ve ever known.” He sighed again. “I hope we find him soon. I don’t want to come back to New York alone. Anyway, enough of me feeling sorry for myself! How did you like the bakery?”

                “It was delicious! Awesome recommendation, and don’t worry man, you can go be sad all you need to. When are you coming back?”

                “No idea. We should get some cookies or something together when I get back though. We haven’t gotten to know each other near as much as I would like.”

                Barnes could hear the honest sincerity in his voice and smiled with Barton. 

                “Sounds awesome Cap! Just let me know when you’re back in town. Should I let you go? Don’t want to take up to much of your time.”

                “Probably yeah. Thanks for calling though Clint! It feels really good to know I’ve got a friend who checks up on me.”

                “No problem at all! Call anytime.”

                “Will do. Bye Clint!”

                “Bye Steve. Talk to ya later.”

                He hung up the phone and looked over to Barnes. “See. Steve is just fine. Sounds kinda sad, but he is very alive.”

                He let out a breath he didn’t even realize was being held and nodded his head. The past three days since leaving Stark’s tower he had woken to screams, nightmares like the one he had just had plaguing his dreams, but this one was the worst so far.

                “Why do these keep happening?”

                Barton gave him a sympathetic shrug. “Lots of reasons. Nightmares are going to happen man, nothing you can do about it.”

                He glared down at the metal hand. “James thinks it’s because of this thing. Since Stark is making a new one, all I can think about is what this hand has done.”

                “And last night it killed the guy you love. Yikes. Want me to see if Tony can speed up his plans?”

                “No I don’t want to bother him. I just need to get my mind off of it.”

                Barton grinned widely and reached over to briefly clasp his ankle. “Well I can help you there! I saw my therapist yesterday and she gave me an awesome thing to help you. Get dressed and we can get started?”

                Barnes nodded and slowly pushed himself out of the bed. As soon as he heard the door click he tossed off his sweat soaked shirt and kicked away the pants carelessly. It didn’t take him long to dress in a red cotton shirt and jeans so he could join the archer.

                When he walked into the living room Barton was setting three large binders of paper on the coffee table. They were immediately intimidating and he eyed them suspiciously.

                “What are those?”

                “Therapy!” Barton cheered, gesturing for him to sit. “But like fun therapy! Penny suggested that you keep track of images and stuff that you remember so I thought we could start by finding more favorites of yours and seeing if they invoke memories like talking about the colors did.”

                “And all the paper?” He asked as he sat down.

                Barton pushed over the yellow binder and opened it to a front tabbed section. “This one is for you to keep track of stuff. Like a memory binder. I separated it into five sections. The first is pictures and words that you feel are the most important and will look at for eh, five minutes daily.”

                He flipped out of the first one. “Next one are ones you look at twice a week, then once a week. The fourth is an optional one, where you can write stuff you start to remember or things that you want to jot down. The last are stuff you have fully remembered, make sense!”

                Barnes nodded, impressed by the genius of it. “Yeah it does. What are those two?”

                “Pictures and words.” Barton beamed happily. “Ooh I already added something to your binder.” He opened it to the last section where the word ‘yellow’ was written out in the color. On the back in Barton’s messy scrawl was ‘favorite color because of Steve.’

                “See I put your new favorite color down! I also added blue and green to your once a week section to see if you can remember why you liked them before and maybe add some new favorites.”

                “Thank you.” He said delightedly. “You are doing far more than I expected.”

                “I’m enjoying it! Besides, I did tell Steve you were going to be okay and I can’t lie to Captain America.” He winked at him. “So you wanna get started on some favorites?”

                Barnes nodded after a moment and sat back into the couch. “Ready.”

                “Okay we’re going to start with the best one! Favorite animal?”

                “Um.” He thought for a second and then said, “A dog?”

                Barton laughed. “Man that sounded like a question. You sure?”

                “I think so? I always wanted a dog but I also really liked those tall orange animals uh, giraffes!” He said happily, proud that he was able to pull blurry images to his conscious without James’s input. “I think I saw a picture of one that was really funny one time.”

                “Dude giraffes are awesome! I mean, look at this!” Barton began riffling through one of the binders and then pulled out a square image. It was one of the animals with its head tilted to the side, its long tongue out, almost licking the camera.

                A burst of laughter escaped him at the picture and he kept the smile it brought onto his face.

                _‘Steve hated that thing._

That was right! He hated that its tongue was a grey color, said that it made it look like it was ill.

                “Steve was freaked out by them. He said their tongues were weird and he didn’t like the way they walked. We saw one in some picture we went to or something. I’m not sure but I remember his reaction.”

                “That’s awesome! Oh god I am so buying him a stuffed giraffe.”

                Barnes grinned and reached out to take the picture from him. “I’m happy I remember that. I like being able to see him laugh.”

                “That’s good. You wanna write something on it? So that if for whatever reason you’re having a problem remembering it will help jostle it back?”

                Barnes nodded in agreement and flipped it over, grabbed the pen on the table and wrote out:

_Stevie really hates the tongues_

                He stared at it for a moment and then gave a startled jerk when he noticed the added ‘I’ in Steve’s name.

                “What’s wrong?”

                “Nothing, I just, I called him Stevie.”

                _‘Because you were Bucky, he needed a funny childish nickname too.’_

“Some dame asked why I went by such a kid sounding name, and I said it was because of Stevie. He let it go, but I was the only one who ever was allowed to call him that.”

                “Damn this is way better than I thought it would be!” Clint cheered happily. “She said visual stimulation is the best way to bring buried thoughts up, but I was a little dubious.”

                “No it is helping.” Barnes assured him, staring down at his hand writing. “Should I write down something for Stevie too?”

                “Do you think you need to?”

                “No. I think this is good enough.” He replied, opening to the last section and sliding the image alongside the word yellow.

                “What’s next?”

                “Well you did say you liked dogs?”

                “I think so? It might have just been a thought because most people like dogs.”

                “Wanna look through a shit ton of pictures of dogs and see if anything sparks?”

                He raised a skeptical eyebrow and asked, “How much is a shit ton?”

                Barton shrugged and pulled out over a hundred individual images and dropped them on the coffee table. “About this. Wanna look and I can get us some coffee going?”

                He eyed them in slight intimidation and then shrugged. “Yeah sure. Wouldn’t hurt would it?”

                Barton just grinned and stood, moving to the kitchen and leaving him there to peruse the pile of paper. It took him a couple of minutes for one to stand out. It was a tall fluffy tri colored dog with happy eyes and almost a smile on its face.

                “This one.” He informed the archer when he returned. “Something about this dog.”

                Barton peered at it and grinned. “It’s a St. Bernard! They’re so friendly and fluffy. Not to mention huge! Do you know why it means something?”

                Barnes continued to stare at it, expecting James to give some sort of incident into his mind but when the little voice was silent he just shook his head. “I have no idea.”

                “No biggie! Does it feel like a daily, once a week, or twice a week memory?”

                He bit his lip and concentrated on the dogs friendly face before replying, “Twice,” and then inserting it into the binder.

                “I want one of those now.” Clint remarked sadly, picking up the extra images. “I love dogs.”

                “Why don’t you have one?”

                “Don’t know?” he shrugged and shoved the images away. “Never really had the lifestyle I guess.”  He flashed him a smile and then flipped to a random spot in his giant binder of images. “Oooh favorite holiday!”

                “Thanksgiving.” He answered immediately without any prompting. “Don’t know why though. I don’t even remember my family, or if I even had any.”

                _‘Three sisters.’_

                He nodded slowly at the reminder, trying to picture their faces but couldn’t. “I guess I had three sisters.”

                “I have a brother.” Barton supplied as he began to pull out a few images. “Well kinda. Anyway! Here are the pictures she gave me associated with Thanksgiving. Any ring any bells?”

                He looked between the three images; one of Native Americans and pilgrims, one of a family around a table, and one of a turkey surrounded by all the typical foods. He took that one from the archer’s hand and grinned lightly.

                “Food. It was because of food. Every other day we hardly had enough to go around, but Thanksgiving my Ma always made sure we all went to bed full.”

                “That’s a good reason to like the holiday.” Barton remarked, handing him the pen, which he took gratefully.

Favorite holiday-we had food

                He sat the utensil back down, stored the pen, and glanced back up at the other man with an expectant look on his face. “Next favorite?”

                Barton laughed and then thought for a moment before exclaiming, “Ice cream!”

                He frowned and stared down at his hands. “I don’t know what ice cream tastes like.”

                “Oh? That’s perfect! We can go by a whole bunch of kinds and have a giant ice cream pig out! The normal flavors like vanilla, chocolate and strawberry are a given but we could also get a ton of Ben and Jerry’s best kinds!”

                “There’s that many types of ice cream?”

                “Oh Barnes my friend you have no idea! We’ll have such a blast!”

                “I’ll take your word for it.” He stated, eyeing the other man in slight worry. “Next one?”

                “How bout favorite place?”

                “Cooney Island.” He had no hesitation again, the words coming to him in an instant.

                “You been there a lot?”

                “Just a few times I think? Steve and I went a couple times every few summers.” He frowned as an impression of cold and wind came over him. “Maybe once in the winter? I don’t know why, but I have fleeting thoughts of Cooney Island and snow.”

                “Wanna go now?” Clint asked eagerly. “I’ve never been, and maybe going will bring back some memories?”

                _‘Do it!’_ James urged when he hesitated. _‘It could be really good for you to take in something you used to love with a clear head.’_

                Barnes nodded and gave Barton a grin. “Okay let’s do it. Let’s go to Cooney Island.”


	7. Chapter 7

Barnes was surprised that the sights sounds and smells around him weren’t far too much. There were children screaming everywhere while the adults yelled over their noises to be heard. Every bit of machinery made its own sort of jarring noise and towered over him almost intimidatingly. Dozens of different foods aromas filled his nose, combining with the smell of the ocean and hundreds of bodies odors. It truly should have been really overwhelming, but something about it made him want to smile.

                _‘It means something to you, that’s why.’_ James reminded him gently.

                “What do you want to do first?” Barton asked suddenly. “I bet there is an ice cream parlor somewhere around us; we can get the ice cream thing started?”

                Barnes stopped his surveil of his surroundings and glanced over at the shorter man and then nodded. “Yeah that sounds good. I really want to know what it tastes like.”

                “Like frozen heaven.”

                “That good?”

                “No exaggeration!” He grinned broadly and began to guide the brunette through the throngs of people to a cute little building with bright colored signs. “You’ll love it!”

                Their entrance was accompanied by a small dinging bell and an explosion of color. The expected overwhelming feeling began to creep up on him and he shifted awkwardly.

                “Why don’t you take a seat?” Barton suggested. “I can get some flavors for you to try?”

                He nodded mutely and moved to one of the plastic booths, dropping himself onto it, his eyes keeping trained between the exit and Barton’s back. He tried not to sit perfectly still, knowing that it wasn’t something people did. He found it hard to fidget or fiddle with something though and hoped that no one noticed his rigid posture.

                He didn’t have to wait long at least, since Barton came back a moment later and slid four little cups filled with three different equally little scoops of ice cream in each one.

                “Alright buddy, I got you lots of options. This one has the generic strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate.”

                He stared down at the cream circles and tiny pink spoon before picking it up and sticking a bite of the vanilla into his mouth, followed by the other two.

                “Vanilla is too boring, Strawberry is sort of strange, and chocolate is really sweet but good.” He recited once he was done.

                “Alright!” Clint said happily and then pushed another container closer to him. “This one is vanilla spiced up! Snickers, birthday cake, and cookie dough!”

                He tried each and then stared at them for a second. “I liked the snickers one. The birthday cake and cookie dough were too, something.” He answered, unsure on how to explain his feelings on the other two.

                “Kinda super sweet and raw?”

                “Yes! Exactly.”

                “Yeah that’s what mimicking raw flavors will do.” He replied smiling. “What about these three? They’re similar to the strawberry. Cherry, lemon ice and orange sherbet.”

                He tried them all and then shook his head vehemently. “Cherry is strange too and the lemon and orange are too sour.”

                “Not a fruit guy! Got it!” He handed the final container over. “If you liked the chocolate it’s a good bet you’ll like these ones too. Chocolate fudge, peanut butter chocolate, and rocky road.”

                He smiled after trying those ones. “I liked them! The rocky road one is the best.”

                “Awesome! A favorite ice cream! Would you like more?”

                He only hesitated for a second before enthusiastically nodding his head. Barton gave another huge grin and momentarily disappeared before coming back with a huge cone filled with the chocolate ice.

                “Here you go! Feels really nice having a favorite ice cream again, huh?”

                “I don’t know if I had one before?” He replied, savoring the taste of the chocolate. “I don’t think we had much to splurge on a cone of ice cream.”

                Barton shrugged. “Oh well. Having one now though must be nice at least?”

                “It is.” He smiled. “Thank you Barton. You’re being a lot kinder and far more helpful than you have to be.”

                The archer waved it away and gave him a serious look. “Nonsense man. I told you this morning, helping you makes me happy! Also, seeing you recover memories is fun.”

                He returned the serious look and pulled his attention completely away from the delicious food. “Not all of them will be fun you know. A lot of it is going to be pretty awful.”

                He received a somber nod in return. “It’s inevitable with the past you’ve had. It’ll suck yeah, but will be helpful in the long run right?”

                “I hope so.”

                He frowned and Barton shook his head. “None of that now though! We’re in an amusement park! Let’s have fun!”

                He nodded in agreement and glanced out the window beside him, a food cart with a bright umbrella caught his attention and he gave a tentative smile. “Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t remember what hot dogs tasted like?”

                Barton laughed. “Well not now! Now I think you’re just being a shit.” His tone was light and teasing and caused a full smile to spread on Barnes’s lips.

                “Yeah I might be.”

                “Come on super soldier; let’s get you a hot dog!”

                _‘They’re that much!’_ James’s appalled voice resounded through his head as Clint paid for the food. _‘Used to be able to get them for ten cents!’_

“They always this expensive?” Barnes asked as they walked away from the vender.

                Barton just laughed with a nod of his head. “Oh yeah! Inflation! It’s pretty bad in some places. You go to Starbucks and can pay as much as five dollars for a cup of coffee.”

                _‘What!’_

                “Who pays that much for coffee?” He asked, voicing James’s outrage.

                “Lots of people who want overpriced frilly stuff.” He answered. “Hafta admit though, I do like the occasional caramel macchiato.”

                “I’m not going to ask what that is.” Barnes stated bluntly, tossing the wrapper to his hot dog in a nearby trash can and going back to the ice cream.

                “Good choice.”

                They wandered around for a while so Barnes could just continue to take in the changed park, trying to will new memories to the surface. They didn’t stop their aimless wandering until they came across a little girl crying. She was pointing at a large teddy bear above a shooting game complaining that it wasn’t fair they wouldn’t give it to her brother.

                Barton stopped then, startling him as the blonde man walked over to the vender with a large grin to the young child. “Here let me try and get it for you.”

                Barnes watched in surprise as he handed money over for a rifle and then shot a perfect game, delighting the little girl as he handed over the largest bear there was.

                “Thank you mister!” She cried happily, hugging his legs and then running off with the three times larger than her bear in her brother’s arms.

                “No wonder you’re one of Earth’s Mightiest Hero’s. Hawkeye, defender of young girls.”

                Barton grinned and shrugged. “Felt bad for her. I know how rigged carnie things are, didn’t want her to miss out. Besides, I’m sure you would have done the same thing.”

                “Before maybe, but just now I just really wanted her to stop crying.”

                He smirked and gently nudged him with his shoulder. “Hey maybe that’s why I did it.”

                Barnes rolled his eyes. “Don’t try and make me feel better Barton. That was a really nice thing to do, and not many people would have. Take the compliment.”

                “Damn you’re bossy.” He laughed and stepped away from the light punch the brunette aimed at him. “Gee kidding! Thanks though. I just thought it would be a nice thing to do.”

                “It was.”

                They continued their walking and Barnes pondered the other man’s words. Would he really have stopped what he was doing to win some strange girl a prize? He certainly had the skill, but did he still possess the basic instinct and feeling to help someone unknown to him? Or was that something that would be permanently lost to him?

                He concentrated on the people around him, hoping that something about them would invoke a reaction in him. A small toddler boy had just fallen and scraped his knee, and the first reaction Barnes had was to immediately see all the ways it could have been worse. Was that him knowing the best way to injure someone, or an optimistic outlook that at least the child was okay?

                A couple was standing on the peer screaming at each other and he instantly thought that they were dangerously close to the edge. A strategic observation to subtly end their lives or concern that they were going to fall?

                He couldn’t tell and it frustrated him. He had once been a good man, he knew that. Someone who had seen a little scrawny kid being ganged up on and instantly thought to protect him. Did Barnes still have that capability now, or had Hydra turned his caring nature into a twisted sort of huge benefit to them? Maybe being able to recognize others in trouble so easily had given him a huge advantage as an assassin? The thought disgusted him.

                _‘You’re an idiot Barnes.’_ James’s tone was annoyed. _‘How could you be any sort of monster when the thought of being one terrifies you? Do you have any desire to kill any of them?’_

_‘No.’_ he answered honestly. _‘But no one is telling me to.’_

                Before he could think it through, he turned to Barton and spit out, “Barton, tell me to kill those teenagers.”

                “What!” The archer halted their movements, his hand instantly clutching Barnes’s arm. “The hell Barnes?”

                “I don’t know if I would try or not. I don’t personally have any desire to kill them, but what if I was ordered to?”

                “If Alexander Pierce walked up to you right now and told you to kill me, would you?”

                “No.”

                “There you go! He was your handler, if you would disobey him, I have no worries you would anyone else.”

                He frowned. “But I look around at all these people and I see dozens of ways they could be killed, countless sniper perches, ways that disasters could happen.”

                “I do too.” Barton replied gently. “That’s not because of what Hydra did Barnes. That’s because you’re a sniper. Because you’ve been in war. Every time I leave my apartment I think of all the ways someone could be targeting me, or the people around me. I strategize what to do if I was attacked without even thinking of it. It doesn’t make us bad people.”

                “It’s normal then?”

                “Absolutely.” Barton nodded his head in the direction of a group of children standing under a sign held up by bright colored ropes. “One well aimed shot and those ropes are gone and the kids trapped, or worse. I see it because I have used the technique before. Because I know it’s possible.”

                He supposed that made sense. And if he really thought about it, both Barton’s and James’s statements were very true. He didn’t want to be a killer, was afraid of being a monster. Maybe that really did make him a good man? Or at least a man with the capabilities of becoming one again?

                He moved his eyes around again, once again looking for a normal reaction, when he had a completely different response. A young man had just stumbled off of the Cyclone and to the closest garbage can to be sick and suddenly Barnes was no longer in Coney Island, but a frozen cliff.

                _“Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone?”_

_“Yeah and I threw up?”_

_“This isn’t payback is it?”_

_“Now why would I do that?”_

It was like he was reliving it, sliding onto the train, fighting the Hydra men and then lifting Steve’s shield. He felt the impact that sent him flying out of the train, could feel the cold metal burning into both of his flesh hands and the brutal wind rushing through his short hair.

                He could clearly see Steve’s terrified face and the feel of his gloved hand as his fingers barely brushed them. The scream of his name and screech of tearing metal were deafening and then he was falling.

                He felt the excruciating agony of his arm ripping from his body and he howled in pain, crying out desperately for Steve as his body sunk into the snow. Cold seeping in around him. So much cold.

                It was the full complete memory of what should have been his death. He was fully reliving it in excruciating detail and once again he repeatedly prayed for his Captain, prayed for the pain to end, prayed to be found.

                He gasped and shuddered violently, opening his eyes he hadn’t even remembered closing to find himself curled on the dirty ground with Barton standing protectively over him. He faintly noticed people around them staring but paid them no mind, reaching up to grasp the other man’s shirt tightly.

                “Get me out of here Clint. Please I’m begging you.” He whispered desperately.

                “Sure thing buddy, come on.” He was lifted to his feet and escorted away from the park, his body instinctively moving as his mind was numb.

                Why did his first full memory have to be that? Why did he have to relive his last seconds with Steve? Relive his last moments as Bucky Barnes before any other moment of his life? Why did he only get to know pain?


End file.
